Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch
by itsashadylife14
Summary: The summer before Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts, strange news tidbits and rumors are starting to surface into the Daily Prophet. News about Muggle attacks, disappearances, and Azkaban breakouts. Rumors about mysterious occurances in Egypt. What strange t
1. #4 Privet Drive

Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch

#4 Privet Drive

Petunia Dursley had several things on her mind that morning. For instance, the particularly horrid rat that had chosen to scamper across the kitchen floor this morning. Petunia had screamed and fled to the safety of the nearest chair. Only when her overly large husband mentioned seeing Mrs. Fielding leaving the house with a handsome young man did Petunia come down. Other things on her mind included the letter she had received when Dudley came home. Apparently, Dudley rather enjoyed the heavy food at Smeltings and had gained nine pounds. It was now required that he lose double the weight before the end of summer holidays. There was also the nuisance still sleeping upstairs.

Leaving the carrot she was splintering into tiny sticks, Petunia hurried upstairs and impatiently rapped twice on the bedroom door.

"Get up! You hear me? Now!" She screeched into the wood.

"Mm, I'm up. Just give me a minute ... to get dressed." Came the sleepy murmur.

Petunia threw open the door and watched her nephew with beady eyes as he hugged his pillow.

"Lying to me now, are you? Get up before I lock you in here with nothing for the rest of the day!" She spat nastily, swatting him across the head.

"Ow, I'm up, allright?" Harry Potter rolled out of bed, his hand searching blindly for his glasses.

"It's about time! Now get downstairs and finishing chopping up that carrot!"

Harry trundled downstairs, the last step groaning slightly under his weight, and found the carrot that would be their breakfast.

An hour later, his uncle sat reading the newspaper, his bristly moustache twitching under his nose; his aunt was glaring out the window, awaiting Mrs. Fielding's return; and Dudley was watching Harry nibble his carrot stick with a sick yearning in his eyes. Dudley took after his father, as he was amazingly overweight, had very little neck, and blond hair that lay flatly on his melon sized head.

"Well, Petunia, is Mrs. Fielding back yet?" Vernon grunted from behind the newspaper.

"No," She replied, tearing her eyes away from the window. "Just as well, that husband of hers was running around with the next door neighbor. By the way, have you seen Mrs. Figg lately?"

"Figg? Oh ... no, why?" Vernon muttered distractedly.

"No reason." Petunia answered stiffly. "But she is the only one who'll take him for Dudley's birthday party."

"Oh, right."

Harry looked up at his aunt briefly who was sipping at her cup of tea pensively. He hoped he wouldn't have to go to Mrs. Figg's, as she was a mad old lady who had nothing but stale food and eight cats that plagued her house. But the Dursleys' refused to leave him alone, it was simply too dangerous.Dudley was fixated on Harry's half eaten carrot stick and Harry, sensing his hungry glare quickly devoured the rest of his breakfast. After all, lunch would most likely be the chicken broth simmering on the stove with a side of toast. And with that grim thought, he switched to the one thing he thought of most. Hogwarts.

Hogwarts is one of the finest schools in England, but ask anyone on the street if they knew about it and you'd get a very funny look. That's because they're probably a Muggle and Muggles don't know of anything magic. A Muggle is a non-magic person, you see. And Harry Potter just happens to be the very opposite, a wizard. You probably wouldn't guess it from his scrawny figure, knobby knees, and untidy black hair, but he was a well respected person in the wizarding world. That's because at the age of one, he managed to deflect a killing curse back at its owner, who was the most powerful and evil wizards of his time. Lord Voldemort, who's name is still feared to speak by many, lost his powers the instant the curse struck him and fled to the forests of Albania, barely alive. Most of Harry's kind refer to Voldemort as You-Know-Who and it was You-Know-Who that killed Harry's parents that windy October night.

Harry thought longingly of the rows of dishes stacked with pancakes drenched in strawberry jam, eggs any way you liked them, sausages, crisp bacon strips, broiled potatoes, and Yorkshire pudding. His stomach growled hungrily.

"Ungrateful lout." Vernon mumbled offhandedly.

"I can't help it." Harry said flatly. "What do you expect after a breakfast like that?"

"Don't you dare complain about the food we give you!" Vernon lunged forward so his blotchy red face was inches from Harry's. 

Harry stared back fiercely and Uncle Vernon relented, leaning back to finish reading his newspaper again. Harry thought bitterly of Vernon stuffing his face with doughnuts when he got to work. His Uncle Vernon worked as director of Grunnings, a firm that manufactured drills. Uncle Vernon was bulky and obese, with small squinty eyes set in his round purplish face. Harry knew better than to push his luck with Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia for that matter.

As Harry lie in his bed that evening, his mind wandered to his closest friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. It was quite unlike them to not write for so long, especially Hermione who always worried about other people. Ron said he reckoned she was going to have a nervous break down before their sixth year. Harry's stomach suddenly gave a lurch as he realized he was already going to be in his fifth year. In only a few more years he would be graduating Hogwarts. It seemed like only yesterday he was standing in front of Mrs. Weasley asking how to get on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. But then he switched back to thinking about Ron and when Pig would return with his letter. 

Sighing jadedly, Harry rested his elbows on the windowsill above his bed and felt the cool breeze blow gently across his face, causing his bangs to blow aside and reveal the jagged scar above his right eyebrow. This was the first thing people noticed when they met Harry. Their eyes would flicker up to his forehead to catch a glimpse of his trademark scar. It didn't bother Harry like it used to when people automatically looked to his forehead. When people first started looking at his scar instead of his actual face, it bothered him because he didn't want to be remembered forever as the kid who conquered Voldemort. However, now he was more inured to it. If people always decided to correlate him to Voldemort, that was their choice.

The tenebrous glow from the street lamps wavered momentarily and Harry glanced up to see a dark shadow flying towards him. He moved quickly aside to let Errol swoop jerkily onto his bed with a soft _flump_. Errol was the Weasleys' ancient family owl. As Harry wondered what had happened to Pig, he swiftly untied the yellow roll of parchment from Errol's feet and lifted him into Hedwig's empty cage. Errol gave a scratchy hoot of thanks and began drinking greedily from Hedwig's water bowl. Harry unrolled the letter and began to read:

_Dear Harry,_

sorry I had to send Errol, but Pig's on a delivery to Hermione. If he dies mid-journey, Mum'll kill me, but I think she'd be secretly happy to get rid of him. Have you heard back from Snuffles yet? Mum still hasn't got up the nerve to tell Dad. Might be too much of a shock for him. They haven't said anything about you coming yet, but I'll ask them again tomorrow. If they say no because of Dumbledore, we can always meet you in Diagon Alley. Hermione is supposed to be arriving next week and I don't know what I'm going to do about that nutty cat of hers.

- Crookshanks was Hermione's ginger colored cat that had tried to capture Ron's rat, Scabbers, two years back. Of course, Scabbers turned out to be an Animagi by the name of Peter Pettigrew who in turn had been the one to hand over Harry's parents to Voldemort.

_Well, hope the Muggles aren't acting up again, _

Ron

Harry gingerly lifted up the loose floorboard under his bed and pulled out a quill and ink. He wrote back:

__

Dear Ron,

the Muggles aren't getting too nasty now, but thanks again for the wonderful food. I don't know how they think someone could survive on carrot sticks and a couple a grapes all summer. They've really gone a bit too far this time I think. Dudley must have some hidden food too, because if I can't survive on celery sticks the rest of summer, he sure can't. 

Harry paused for a moment, quill tip in mouth, to wonder if he should bring up Victor Krum. Ron was still a little uneasy on this subject as Krum turned out to be Hermione's boyfriend. He decided he'd better not.

_That's nice that Hermione's coming to visit. How long is she staying? No, nothing back from Snuffles yet. But in his last letter he hinted to expect a bit more in the next owl post. Wonder what he means by that. Anyway, I think I hear Uncle Vernon coughing again. Better finish up this letter before he barges in here to make sure I'm not bewitching the bedside table or anything like that._

_Bye,_

Harry

Harry took one look at Errol, who now had his head nestled under his ruffled gray wing, and decided it might be better to wait for Hedwig. Sloping down under the covers of his bed, he thought of many things before drifting into an uneasy sleep riddled with nightmares about what Voldemort, his parents, and oddly pyramids. When he woke up, the only recollection that he'd had them would be the thin film of sweat on his upper brow.

Aunt Petunia's persistent knocking awoke Harry again.

"Get up you wretched little boy!" She screeched and Harry quickly tumbled obidiently out of bed.

When he opened the door she eyed him suspiciously, as if he were hiding a wanted criminal under his bed. Although, Harry had told the Dursleys' about his godfather being a convicted murderer. But that was only part of the truth about Sirius Black. Sirius was infamously known for two things in the wizarding world, betraying the his best friends and breaking out of Azkaban. Sirius had been entrusted as the Potters' Secret Keeper, but at the last moment secretly switched with Peter Pettigrew, who was the one to lead Voldemort to the Potters' hiding place. However, the only people who knew this were Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ron's mother, Albus Dumbledore (Headmaster of Hogwarts), and Remus Lupin. People also knew Sirius as the man who had escaped from the heinous wizard prision, Azkaban. Azkaban was run by horrible creatures called Dementors, that drained all the happy emotions out of a person and could suck the soul out of a living person if permitted. Prisioners usually went mad in less than a week, but Sirius had managed to keep his head by turning into a dog in his cell. You see, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter were all unregistered Animagi. Animagi is the name for a wizard that can turn into a specific animal. Sirius was a shaggy black dog, Peter a rat, and James a majestic stag. 

Aunt Petunia swept into the room, clutching a rolling pin between her long spindly fingers. Her eyes darted to every nook and cranny before she ushered a bewildered Harry down the stairs.

"Really scrub those potatoes or you'll be pulling weeds the rest of the day!" She shouted from the top of the stairs.

Harry grumbled under his breath as he vigorously scrubbed the soiled potatoes. Suddenly, a loud tapping came on the kitchen window above the sink. Harry jumped back in surprise before realizing that his own snowy white owl was hovering outside the window. He cranked open the window and Hedwig came fluttering inside, clutching a cream colored envelope with 'Harry' written across it in a familiar text. Hedwig landed on the counter next to Harry with a friendly hoot and he took the envelope from her. Setting it next to the sink, he quickly scrubbed the rest of the potatoes with his eyes fixiated on the envelope. Placing the last of the soapy potatoes in a pot of boiling water, Harry eagerly picked up his letter and tore it open. 

Sirius had written this on a crisp roll of parchment:

_Dear Harry,_

I know I told you to expect a little more than you bargained for last letter. But it will have to wait another day or so. I can't tell you exactly what Dumbledore asked us to do, especially in case this letter might find its way into the wrong hands. You'll find out soon enough, though. If those Muggles you're living with need a good scaring tell them to expect one soon....

Your godfather,

Sirius

Harry didn't know what to think. What was Sirius going to send him? Anything magical was sure to scare the Dursleys, but what was Sirius planning?

As he climbed the stairs, he wondered about the possible things his godfather could send him. Still thinking about a set of silver Gobstones, Harry accidentally bumped into something round and squashy in his bedroom doorway, which turned out to be his uncle's stomach.

__

"Lousy good-for-nothing!" Uncle Vernon barked and hastily pushed past him towards the stairs. 

Had Uncle Vernon been snooping in his room? Harry stepped nervously into his room, expecting a rabid dog to burst out from the corner to get rid of him once and for all. Instead, everything was just how he'd left it and it was all eerily in perfect order. Quietly shutting the door, Harry moved towards his bed and crouched down next to the loose floorboard. 

Carefully lifting it up and inch or so, Harry slipped his hand inside his secret niche and ... felt nothing. It was empty. Harry wrenched the floorboard out only to confirm that it had, indeed, been emptied. So that was why Aunt Petunia had looked at him so suspiciously at him this morning and Uncle Vernon had been in his room. He couldn't believe they would stoop so low as it confiscate his letters and most importantly, all the schoolwork he'd stayed up late into the night to finish.

"So," Harry began with a shaking voice as he entered the kitchen, "read anything interesting in those letters of mine?" 

Aunt Petunia clinked two glasses together as she set them on the counter; Uncle Vernon lifted his newspaper higher with a disgruntled snort; Dudley stared up at him sanctimoniously.

"Well?" Harry huffed, glaring heatedly at the headline of Uncle Vernon's paper.

"Well what, boy? Haven't we taught you not to ask questions?" Vernon growled from behind the screen that was his newspaper. 

"Those are my letters! They aren't hurting anyone! And all the schoolwork I had to finish at one in the morning just so I wouldn't wake you! I can't go back without any of it! Now," Harry faltered for a moment, "I ... I _demand_ you give them back right now!"

The kitchen suddenly became deathly quiet and Harry unconsciously edged away from the table.

"You _what?_" Dudley whispered in awe.

" How _dare _you! Haven't I told you you're not to send letters off to your ... your _friends_ with that ruddy owl? And do you think I care if you don't finish your precious homework? Maybe they'd do you some good and expell you from that... that..." Uncle Vernon struggled to bypass the word, gritting his teeth all the while, "_school_ of yours. You should know, that we plan on starting to use that fireplace again tomorrow night."

Harry mouth fell open at his uncle's final words. Never, in all the years that he had lived here... the Dursleys had certainly never sank this low before. 

"You wretched little thing, how dare you demand anything from us! We're the ones who took you in when there was no one else! If we even thought for one second that we could have shipped you off to some distant family member, we would have!" His aunt hissed, her eyes reduced to mere slits.

"Now there's some work to be done around the yard and I daresay you'd like to do it?" Uncle Vernon sneered nastily.

Harry was gazing bitterly out his window at two kids bouncing a ball back and forth in the cul-de-sac of Privet Drive when his bedroom door opened. He turned around to see Dudley squeezing through the doorway with some difficulty..

"You know, Dad was talking about sending you off to Stonewall High instead of that school of yours." Dudley taunted.

"So you're the one who told them about the floorboard?" Harry glanced back out the window.

"I almost forgot all about it, and wouldn't that have been a pity?" Dudley simpered. 

"You know what would be a pity? If your mum and dad find out you've got a loose floorboard of your own." 

The smug grin on Dudley's face vanished and his face became purplish like it always did before he threw a temper tantrum. 

"They wouldn't believe you." He said in a derisive hush.

"Sure you want to take that chance?" Harry moved for the door but Dudley stopped him.

"What do you want from me anyway?"

"Oh nothing, just somebody to test my spells on. I bet you'd look lovely with dandelions sprouting out your ears or as a large twittering canary."

Dudley's face turned a chalky white and promptly waddled out of the room. Harry watched him go then turned back to gaze out the window, wishing more than anything that Sirius's surprise would come tomorrow.


	2. Sirius's Surprise

Sirius's Surprise

The next morning, Harry was rudely awakened when Aunt Petunia decided to try a new approach to waking him: a glass of water. Harry bolted upright, gasping as it ran down his face and shirt. 

"What did you do that for?" He asked angrily while squeezing the water out of his bangs.

"It's time to get up and I'm not about to come prodding you awake every morning! Now, there's a pan full of eggs and sausages downstairs for Duddy Dum's birthday today, " Aunt Petunia switched her voice to a syrupy hum as Dudley, smoothed blonde hair and all five double chins, lingered in the doorway.

It wasn't really his birthday; Dudley had had his ages ago while still at Smeltings. But he had whined an entire fifteen minutes before they gave in, allowing him to have a belated party. Piers Polkiss, Liza Bethany, Niles Finch, and a few other friends from Dudley's school would be pouring into the living room in another two hours, yet the Dursleys hadn't mentioned anything about Ms. Figg. Maybe they had decided to use him a human piñata.

----

"You better watch yourself today; I'm warning you. We didn't manage to get a hold of Ms. Figg, her house appears dark and no one answers the phone." Harry paused to wonder if they had bothered to find out if the old bat had finally died. What if she had and no one had noticed? "And as we've got no one else to take you, you'll be spending the evening upstairs not making a sound."

Harry nodded. He understood perfectly because the Dursleys often did this to him. When there was no one else to take him, he was cooped up in his room trying to pretend he wasn't there. The last time this had happened, a house elf named Dobby decided to pay a visit to him and ended up smashing the Dursleys' sugared bowl of pudding. 

Uncle Vernon suddenly lunged forward, bearing his small stubby teeth like a baboon. "I mean it, boy. If you keep to yourself, you won't get hurt. Understood?" 

Harry nodded again. He didn't entirely mind spending the evening in his room. As long as his aunt or uncle didn't come barging in to make sure he wasn't doing what he would be (finishing up his homework), he'd get by just fine.

----

At five o'clock sharp, the doorbell rang and Aunt Petunia pushed Harry up the stairs, reminding him the punishment for leaving his room. 

"And don't you dare make a sound!" She hissed after him.

Harry slumped down on his bed and stared at Hedwig's empty cage. A few of her feathers lay curled at the bottom along with shells from her food mixture of nuts and almonds. It was good that Ron had sent a food package for Hedwig, too. Otherwise she might have been living off what he was, stale birthday cake and sugarless wafers. All his other rations had run out ages ago. Only two more weeks remained until September the first, so Harry hadn't sent any word to his friends that he was in need. If only he had his letters to read. They could at least distract him from the horrible potions essay he still needed to write, _Explain How Medieval Alchemy Become the Basis for Modern Day Potions._

Kneeling down next to the broken bookshelf in the corner of his room, Harry reached underneath it to grab one of his thicker leather-bound schoolbooks. Ron always grumbled about its weight, usually comparing to that of Gilderoy Lockhart's ego. Suddenly a shrill scream that could only be Aunt Petunia's echoed from downstairs, causing Harry to drop the book on his foot. Hopping to the landing with his good foot, Harry heard a surprised a second bellow, this time from his uncle. It was followed by a babble of curious whispers from Dudley's friends.

"Budge up there, Dursley, need to get through." 

"JUST WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING!" Uncle Vernon's voice rumbled with a boiling fury and uneasiness.

"Only be a minute. Harry!" 

Sirius Black suddenly appeared at the bottom of the stairs and catching sight of Harry, gave a toothy grin. 

"Surprised?"

Harry beamed at his godfather. 

"Not nearly as much as they must be."

"Where's your trunk? I'll have to enchant it to fit in your back pocket."

"What - am I coming to live with you?" Harry sputtered.

"S'only temporary, but you better hurry up before-"

"I DEMAND YOU LEAVE MY HOUSE AT ONCE! YOUR _KIND _IS NOT WELCOME HERE!" Uncle Vernon halted beside Sirius, his face a shade of red Harry had never seen before.

"Go on, Harry, gather your things together."

Harry hesitated, then wheeled around and headed for his room. He snatched up the few things he owned and stuffed them inside the scratched, worn trunk he'd bought with Hagrid in Diagon Alley only a few years ago. All the while, he kept catching phrases from the insults Sirius and Uncle Vernon were hurling back and forth. 

His schoolwork and letters were found stuffed in a shoebox underneath his Aunt and Uncle's bed. Lugging his trunk onto the landing, with Hedwig's empty cage on top of it, he called down the stairs for help.

"Oy, Sirius, think you could give me a hand here?"

Uncle Vernon's eyes widened as Sirius, who was still rightly telling him off, pulled out his wand and nonchalantly muttered '_mobilicodex_'. Backing into a picture of an old windmill on the wall, Uncle Vernon watched as Harry's trunk floated down the stairs.

"And furthermore, if you can afford to plump up your son into the size of a small blimp than I certainly believe you can feed my godson better than a stalk of celery for breakfast! I mean, you must realize that we're not playing _Oliver_ here." 

The trunk landed at Sirius's feet. They both looked to it and Sirius muttered a few more words, and it popped into a key chain.

"Out... just get out." Uncle Vernon murmured hoarsely.

"Harry?"

"Oh, right, ready." Harry shook his head and tried not to smile as he passed his uncle.

"Well, Dursley, it certainly has been a pleasure. Your trunk, Harry." Sirius dropped the key chain luggage into Harry's palm.

Uncle Vernon gave the two of them a sour look.

----

Harry had to agree that his godfather looked much different than when Harry had seen him in the hospital ward at the end of last year. Sirius's hair now fell in floppy layers and the gaunt, skeletal look he once had was gone. His cheeks were a little fuller, but his gray eyes still held the numbness gained from twelve years in Azkaban. 

An hour had already passed and Harry still couldn't believe was soaring over the rooftops of London on the back of a hippogriff. A certain hippogriff too named Buckbeak. Buckbeak had once belonged to Hagrid and condemned to being beheaded after being framed by Malfoy. Minutes before the axe was set to fall, Harry and Hermione had freed him to give to Sirius to escape from his own partial execution.

"C'mon Sirius, just tell me where we're going!" Harry begged for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Ah, now that's part of the surprise, but I'm sure you could guess it."

Harry tried to think for a second, but he still felt too excited to even think properly. He was going to be spending the rest of his vacation with the fun-loving prankster that had once dominated Hogwarts along with Harry's father. The two had been best friends, and Harry was interested to learn what his dad had been like. 

"I can't think right now, it's all just a blur. It seems like we only just left the Dursleys."

Sirius grinned back at him.

"Honestly, Harry, I don't see how you can stand them. I couldn't live there ten minutes without turning them all into a family of horned toads."

"Yes, well after twelve years of wizard-free existence you'd be amazed at how patient you could become."

Harry waited for Sirius's light laugh, but it didn't come. 

"Harry, I-" He stopped painfully, then, "Maybe I should fill you in on the latest Voldemort news."

It seemed obvious that Sirius was trying to prevent himself from saying something, but what was it? 

"Well, what do you mean..." Harry said slowly, still thinking about what his godfather was about to say. "Have there been like attacks or signs that even Fudge can't ignore?" 

"No attacks, not yet anyway. But there have been plenty of signs. Probably the most important one happened the day before your birthday, by the way sorry for my late letter. Had a bit of a problem when a _Daily Prophet_ owl. Flighty little bugger had been trained to recognize my picture and started to take off. Luckily, after getting scratched to hell and pecked at a couple times, I managed to trap him under a cooking pot."

"What'd you do with him? Wouldn't they notice if one of their owls didn't come back?"

"Yeah, I was a little worried they might suspect something when I had to send them back my lazy eyed minute owl. But nothing happened and I received my copy of _The Daily Prophet_ bright and early the next morning. We still haven't decided what to do with the _Daily Prophet _owl."

Harry laughed, "Is it possible to put a memory charm on an owl?"

"No, unfortunately. The Ministry keeps strict tabs on cruelty to defenseless magical creatures."

"Hm."

"But back to what I started out saying. You do know it's nearly impossible to break out of Azkaban."

Harry nodded, but still pictured dear old Padfoot slipping through the bars of his cell and past the hooded monsters with cracked scabby hands. He shuddered.

"Well, there was this couple, the Lestranges, who got locked up for torturing a family for information on Voldemort. And the _Daily Prophet _reported the morning before your birthday that their cell was found empty during bed check." 

"What? But.. but how? Wouldn't the dementors have known that they'd escaped in the night? The only way you got out was because you're an Animagi... unless, were they?"

"Exactly, that's why it's so suspicious. I know they're weren't Animagi like me, because their cell was across from mine. I would have seen if they had transformed. Some wizards have taken it as a sign of Voldemort's rebirth and they're smart to. We've got to learn to accept the fact that he's back. Fudge still hasn't."

"But, how else could they have gotten out?" Harry asked, still dwelling on that fact.

"Well most of us that accept Voldemort's return have a theory. You see, the dementors were in league with Voldemort when he was in power last and I do believe that they are again. There haven't been any more Azkaban disappearances, but I understand that. See most prisoners go mad within a week and Voldemort wouldn't bother rescuing any of those useless servants of his. He'd rather let them rot there." Sirius spitefully and sharply steered Buckbeak to the left.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence as Harry absorbed the information he had just heard. So Voldemort _had_ managed to get the Dementors back. How long would it be before all of Azkaban was left unfortified and Dementors were prowling all over the streets of London? At least Dumbleore might have managed to get the Giants on their side. He suddenly remembered something Hagrid had said before he had left last year.

_"Got a little job fer me over the summer," _The voice came back in an echo.

"Sirius, do you know - can you tell me what Hagrid and Madame Maxime went to do over the summer?"

"Er... well, I think I have some idea of what they might be doing, but Dumbledore ... he would prefer that I not tell you..."

"That's ok, I think I know what they're up to anyway. It's just," Harry struggled to find the words as he ran his finger over Buckbeak's glossy feathers, but another thought struck him unexpectedly. "Buckbeak - what if someone sees him Sirius? I mean, I don't think it'd be very good if a Muggle happened to look out their kitchen window and see a winged horse flying across the sky!"

"Don't worry, I put a charm on him before I left. '_Enogmorf Noisiv_' will makes an object and us invisible. Tricky little spell, but amazingly useful. It comes in handy when you can't seem to find your trusty invisible cloak." 

Harry grinned and yawned, thinking of what fun it would be to turn all Hermione's books invisible. He loosened his grip on Sirius's waist and stretched slightly.

"You must be tired. We're halfway there and I'm sure they had you up early doing who knows what." 

It was then that Harry noticed the watch on his godfather's wrist; it was somewhat like other watches and clocks he had seen in the Weasleys' home. One hand revolved around it, pointing to such phrases as _lost_, _nearly there_, _turn left _and other traveling related sayings. 

"Go ahead and rest your head on my back." Sirius offered.

"Er... okay then."

Each vertebrate seemed to jut out and into the side of Harry's head as he tried not to move too much. Finally he found a place on his godfather's back that didn't seem to have any knurl or bone poking out. Harry had to admit though, that Sirius's back was almost as comfortable than the stiff pillow he had at the Dursleys. 


End file.
